


Apricots at Sunrise

by tangofox



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Romance, Summer Romance, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 02:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20987657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tangofox/pseuds/tangofox
Summary: Loosely inspired by Call Me By Your Name.Steve Rogers is an art graduate invited to spend the summer in rural Sardinia with the Stark family. Inspired by the beautiful scenery and the unending summer, Steve finds himself surrounded by a paradise that inspires him to paint all day and all night.Tony Stark is fresh out of high school, and intent on losing himself in the summer and forgetting about college and all the responsibilities he’s expected to bear. He wants nothing to do with his Fathers plans for him, or his Mothers new houseguest.Neither of them are prepared for what the summer has in store for them, and just how much six short weeks will change everything they know.





	Apricots at Sunrise

Apricots. They had always been Steve’s favourite fruit. He remembered the smell of his Mother in the kitchen in the summer heat, slicing up fresh apricots to serve to him in a rich cobbler. A fond memory, but nothing more than that. He hadn’t tasted apricots in years. 

The heat of the Italian sunshine was almost unbearable for someone used to bitter New York winters, the rickety bus lacking air conditioning and windows that actually opened. Steve watched as elderly ladies fanned themselves with ornate hand fans, and while men took naps under their earthy coloured hats. Steve sat in his stiff-collared shirt, and sweated his way through the countryside, locks of blonde hair sticking to his forehead more and more as each mile passed them by. 

When he had been told that the Starks summer home was a way away from the city, he had expected perhaps a twenty minute bus ride to the outskirts. Not a car ride, a boat,  _ then _ a bus. Nobody had mentioned the estate being on an island. Nobody had said anything about how secluded the little town was, right on the coast of Sardinia. He felt like he was in an entirely different world. 

The orchard groves and field passed by in a green haze, Steve’s eyes closing lazily, only to be jolted away by a rough patch of road, a firm reminder that he certainly wasn’t driving on the smooth city roads he was used to. Everything was so colourful here, but not in the same way as the parks were in the city. Steve had spent several lazy afternoons in Central Park, but the looming oak trees and grassy knolls couldn’t compare to the Italian vista that lay out before him. So much to explore, to draw, to paint. He had no intention of wasting a single moment of his summer here. 

It had been pure chance that he had been handed this opportunity. A passing conversation led to another passing conversation, and the next thing he knew, his professor had been calling him into her office. She knew Steve had no plans lined up after graduating, and had apparently been discussing his work with her good friend Maria Stark. Steve didn’t need to ask about her. The enigmatic wife of Howard Stark. A glamorous socialite who was once famed for her good looks and charming personality. She had given up modelling after the birth of her son, but Steve had seen recent photographs of the woman. Age hadn’t taken any of her beauty away from her. 

So it had fallen into his lap. A good word too ne Maria Stark, and the woman had absolutely insisted that Steve come to Italy for the the summer to find inspiration for his art. How could he refuse? 

The sun had still been high in the sky when Steve had arrived at the villa in a taxi that had seen better days. Like the rest of the place, it seemed twenty years out of date, and yet, completely in keeping with the world it occupied. Steve had once heard that Mediterranean folk liked to live life lazily. He supposed this was an apt showing of it. No fancy cars, no hurry to get to work, to get dinner served at just the right time. The whole place had an air of nonchalance that he had yet to unravel. Like a mystery begging him to begin to dig for clues. 

Then, there was him. 

If Steve were to close his eyes, in an instant he could travel back to that moment, to transcribe exactly what he saw. A younger man in nothing but swimming trunks, leaning over the balcony with such a force that it looked at if he might take a tumble any second and decorate the gravelled driveway. But his face. His face showed none of that strange energy his body language exuded. In fact, Steve was certain he had never seen an individual look more  _ bored _ in his entire lifetime. It took less than a minute for the Starks to greet him, yet he remembers standing upon that driveway as if it was a year long moment. The man’s eyes boring into his own, staring at him with that lazy nonchalance, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, burning without a care. Steve had never felt more like an intruder, like someone who didn’t belong. An insect pinned down to be inspected by a collector. Yes, that’s what he felt like. Collected. Surveyed. As if his future hung in the balance of this one stranger and his whimsy. Was he to be accepted? Or would he be tossed aside, deemed not good enough for the attention he was receiving? 

Then as quickly as the moment began, it was over. An ecstatic Maria was rushing out of the house to embrace him, pressing kisses to each of his cheeks while Howard shook his hand, laughter and warmth emanating from the both of them. When he looked back up at the window, the figure was gone. Steve had half a mind to believe he was nothing more than a ghostly apparition. A sunbaked mirage that had been for his eyes only. There was no way to tell in that moment. No evidence of him remained. 

Steve let the apparition fade from his mind as he responded to quips from Howard about the strength of his handshake, and the comments from Maria about how he would catch the sun in no time. He supposed he must be an oddity, out here where the sun gleamed down on the half naked tanned bodies like that which he had witnessed on the balcony. He would catch the sun soon enough. Shake off his pale visage. But as he made his way up to the guest room to take the much needed siesta, he couldn’t help but wonder if he would shake off that feeling of eyes burning into his back. 

———

He couldn’t recall when it happened. Maybe it was when he first laid eyes on the young man there on the balcony. Part of him wonders if it was even before then. If his heart knew to skip a beat back on the bus; light and full of excitement for the things to come. He wasn’t the type to become swallowed by his own feelings. He knew how to focus on life’s practicalities, it was something his mother had taught him well. How to keep his head above water, avoid drowning. 

Of course, all those lessons on life would fall to nothing when it came to his summer with Tony Stark. He knew what to do when he was drowning. But nobody has quite prepared him for what to do when he willingly wanted to hold his head under the water. 

He wasn’t quite sure when it happened. But he learnt very quickly what it felt like, to fall in love. 


End file.
